TO ERR IS HUMAN
by Ann3
Summary: Following on from Repercussions... Nigel has an unexpected visitor...


TO ERR IS HUMAN…

Written by Ann Rivers ann.rivers@virgin.net

Summary: Following on from Repercussions… Nigel has an unexpected visitor…

Spoilers: As before

Disclaimer: RH and its characters belong to CanWest and Fireworks Productions.

The gently insistent knocking on his bedroom door wasn't unexpected. It wasn't welcomed either.

So it was with a fair measure of anger that Nigel finally strode to the door and flung it open.

"Damn it, Sydney…! I really don't feel like talking about this right now…!"

The irritated dismissal then skidded to a sheepish mumble of apology in recognition of his visitor. 

"Oh, he… I – I mean, I'm dreadfully sorry, Sister Mary, but I… um… well, I – I thought you were…"

"Sydney…?" she concluded, smiling at the common ground which she now shared with Sister Grace.

Nigel wasn't smiling though. Instead he remained completely mortified as he beckoned her inside – 

his obvious embarrassment over what has just happened causing her to become gently serious again.

"No, Nigel, if anyone should be apologising, it's me…" she said at last, shrugging her shoulders.

"When you became ill, I just assumed that you'd want Sydney to be told where you were…"

Before Nigel could fumble out a reply, she folded her arms and raised a quizzically stern eyebrow. 

"Speaking of which, what were you doing out of bed and wandering around in the first place…? You've been ill, Nigel… seriously enough to give us quite a scare… and you're _meant_ to be resting…"

Totally thrown, Nigel stared at her for a moment before developing a sudden interest in his feet.

"Well, I – I was hungry, and… um, well, I didn't want to cause you any more trouble…" he mumbled, offering her a sheepish glance and even more sheepish smile from under his fringe.

Fondly imagining what kind of bargaining power those eyes and that smile had given him as a child,

an admirably straight faced Sister Mary just nodded while pointing authoritatively towards his bed.

Duly chastised, Nigel forced out a meek smile in return while he slid back under the bedclothes.

Seemingly determined to thwart any further escape bids, Sister Mary then tucked him securely in – 

a benign smile warning him that any further protests would fall on divinely deaf ears.

Just to make sure, though, she slid a thermometer into Nigel's mouth then rested a hand on his cheek – the results of both met with an approving nod on her part and weary gratitude on his.

"So you feel like eating now…?" she said at last, clearly pleased by this further sign of progress.

Startled as he'd been by Sydney's appearance, Nigel couldn't deny a now noisily demanding appetite.

"Yes, I would… um… I'd guess so…" he murmured, casting a baleful glare towards his stomach.

"I'd guess so too…" Sister Mary chuckled, smiling fondly back at him as she moved to the door.

"Do you want to have another try at that soup…?"

Deep in thought, Nigel frowned for a moment, then he nodded and managed a slight smile in return.

In truth, he hated to be mothered, and he felt perfectly well enough to get to the kitchen unaided, but… 

well, then again, he'd had enough surprises, and embarrassed himself enough for one day…

He was still rather preoccupied when Sister Mary returned with a deliciously laden lunch tray – 

so much so that it took a gently discreet cough to gain a sheepish grin of apology.

Yet the strain in his eyes couldn't be taken so lightly – neither could his unhappiness at its cause.

Seeing this, Sister Mary sat carefully on the edge of Nigel's bed, offering him an encouraging smile.

"Whatever's happened between you both, Nigel, I'm not here to pass judgement…" she said gently.

"I'm just here to listen… and, if you'll allow me, help you both to resolve your differences…"

With those differences still dominating his thoughts, Nigel just nodded while he sipped on his soup.

That he needed to talk them through was obvious – several aborted attempts to do so told her that.

Hoping that she was doing the right thing, Sister Mary gently broke an increasingly awkward silence.

"I must admit, though, that I was rather… well, surprised that Sydney left you alone like that…"

Startled dark eyes stared back at her – something akin to relief mingling with Nigel's obvious surprise.

"So… um… I – I mean, you know what happened…?" he asked at last, his next words tellingly quiet.

"I – I mean, everything that's gone on between me and Syd, and… and my brother…?"

The senior nun nodded, guessing from the pain in his eyes just how deeply those events had hurt him.

She could sense something else too – a real battle between justified anger and now shaken loyalty.

Perhaps it was wishful thinking on her part, but the strength of that loyalty seemed to be winning.

Nigel was now staring into his mug of soup, as though hoping to find the answers he needed within it.

"I – I just don't know what to do…" he said at last, biting his lip while sadly shaking his head. 

"I'm just so… so mad at Syd right now, but… but then I remember everything she's done for me… 

all the times that she's saved my life, and… and how much her friendship means to me, and… and…"

"And you don't know which voice to follow…" Sister Mary broke in, offering him a gently wise smile.

"Your heart is telling you to remain loyal to Sydney, to… well, forgive and forget, shall we say…

but then there's the voice in your head that's full of anger at… well, what you'd justly see as betrayal…

and given how close you are, and the strength of your friendship… well, that's hardly surprising…"

"No, I – I suppose it isn't…" Nigel agreed, absently running his fingers round the rim of his mug.

Encouraged by a gently understanding nod, he then smiled slightly and shrugged his shoulders. 

"I – I just wish… I mean, I just wish I knew why she left me like that…"

"Well, Nigel, there's only one person who can answer that question…" Sister Mary pointed out.

Guessing from a sheepish grin that Nigel had worked that out already, she then smiled back at him – relieved enough by this welcome breakthrough to risk some gentle teasing as she patted his side.

"If you'll allow her to, of course…"

Although he nodded agreement, Nigel still looked slightly awkward as he glanced up at her.

"So Sydney's still here…? I – I mean, even though I walked out on her, she hasn't… well…"

"Left you and returned home…?" Sister Mary finished for him, raising a motherly quizzical eyebrow.

Enjoying the sheepish nod she received in return, she then grew more serious as she added gently, 

"No, Nigel, I'm sure Sydney knows she was wrong to leave you when you so clearly needed her… 

just as I'm sure that she will _never_ make that mistake again…"

She knew by Nigel's thoughtful nod of agreement that he'd already reached the same conclusion – 

and she could tell by a charmingly shy smile how much her gentle reasoning had been appreciated.

But at the same time, it wasn't her words of reassurance and explanation that he needed to hear.

She'd done all she could to rebuild some bridges between Sydney Fox and her troubled TA.

Now it was up to them to test their weight on those bridges – to find out how well they'd hold.

The signs were encouraging, though – the morose resentment of before now thankfully dissipated.

Nigel, however, now seemed to have some other, slightly more embarrassing concerns on his mind.

In passing across his lunch tray, he'd come to realise that a distinct aroma had followed his movement – and it _hadn't_ come from the remnants of that heartily meaty soup…

"Oh good Lord, I smell like a stable…!" he moaned, blushing to the same shade of red as his shirt. 

Sorely tempted to offer him a bed bath, if only to see his reaction, Sister Mary then decided against it.

Instead, laughing now at his plaintive expression, she patted his side again before rising to her feet.

"Well, provided you take it easy, you can get up now and get yourself freshened up…" she went on, unable to resist one last teasing note of caution as she turned at the door and grinned back at him.

"Just make sure that you keep whistling while you're in the shower…"

A short time later, a loudly whistling Nigel Bailey took one last furtive peek round the shower curtain. Finally assured that he was alone, he then smiled and gleefully spun the taps onto full flow.

At the same time, Sydney stretched stiff kinks from her shoulders as she walked down the corridor.

Still smarting from Nigel's rebuff, she now headed tiredly towards the nearest washroom – 

ruefully convinced that the awkward strain between them couldn't possibly get any worse…


End file.
